


The Better Part of Valor

by sahiya



Category: Doctor Who
Genre: F/F, Historical, Victorian
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-06
Updated: 2012-01-06
Packaged: 2017-10-29 01:01:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,617
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/314112
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sahiya/pseuds/sahiya
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jack investigates a series of curious murders in Victorian London and is surprised by what he finds.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Better Part of Valor

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Poetry](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Poetry/gifts).



> Happy Holidays, Poetry!
> 
> I'm not entirely sure how canon compliant this is, but hopefully it's amusing anyway. (Posted it the first time not in the collection, oops.)

Victorian England had been amusing to Jack for about five minutes. He had an appreciation for history, and the clothes weren't bad, unless you were in a hurry to get them off (which, to be fair, he often was). But the hygiene left a lot to be desired, the lack of electricity was a nuisance, and he couldn't _wait_ for the indecency laws to get taken off the books.

But all things pass and this would, too, this age of Empire and repression. If Jack's little immortality problem didn't resolve itself - and he didn't think it would, not without the Doctor - all he had to do was be patient and learn some discretion. It wasn't easy, but he had no other choice.

And in the meantime, he had Torchwood to keep him entertained. Though tonight, knee deep in the sewer system of London, Jack was feeling even more ambivalent than usual about his employer.

He'd been tracking his quarry for nearly an hour now. He wasn't entirely sure what it was, but he knew it wasn't human. There had been scattered reports recently of half-eaten victims, some of them the most unsavory members of London's criminal underworld, being left for the police. A vigilante cannibal seemed unlikely, and even if it didn't, the teeth marks were inconsistent with human teeth. Scotland Yard had called in Torchwood, and Torchwood had sent Jack.

Dim light shone ahead - not much, but enough for Jack to see his cloaked quarry climbing out of the tunnels. Jack quickened his step, not wanting to lose them now, and climbed out of the sewers onto a quiet, dark street with a single horse-drawn carriage parked under a streetlamp.

"You've been following me," a surprisingly cultured, feminine voice said from behind him.

Jack turned. "You've been eating criminals."

It - she? - laughed. "Only the ones who deserved it - and not tonight. I hope you're not here to arrest me."

"Not quite," Jack said. "I work for Torchwood. You might've heard of us."

"I might have," she said. "And your name is?"

"Captain Jack Harkness."

"A pleasure to meet you, Captain. I am called Vastra."

"Vastra," he repeated. "Interesting name. And how did you end up here, Vastra?"

"I was born here," she said, with a sudden icy edge. "You shouldn't assume that I'm not a native of Earth, simply because I'm not human."

Jack raised an eyebrow. "A sentient, bipedal, non-human native of Earth. Silurian?"

"Very good, Captain. Now, I am famished. Would you care for some dinner? My maid always makes too much."

"That depends," Jack said warily. "What're you having?"

She chuckled. "Lamb stew. Don't worry, I only eat larger prey on special occasions. Robert!" she called, and the driver of the carriage climbed down to open the door for her. She swung herself in gracefully, and Jack, after only a moment's hesitation, climbed in after her. They set off down the street at a fair clip. Vastra removed her gloves as they passed beneath a streetlamp, and Jack caught a glimpse of polished green scales.

He frowned, recalling an old Agency history lesson. “If you’re Silurian, then how'd you end up on the surface?"

"That, Captain Harkness, is a very long story. It involves a magic man with a blue box and a silver tongue."

That explained a lot, Jack thought. "The Doctor."

"You know him?"

"I traveled with him once. A long time ago."

"You must be a good man, then," Vastra said. "The Doctor chooses his friends carefully."

"I don't know how good I am," Jack replied. "But I'm better for having known him." Not better _off_ , but better.

"As am I. Ah, here we are."

The carriage pulled up in front of an elegant townhouse. Jack climbed out first, then offered Vastra his hand. She preceded him inside, where she finally pulled back the hood of her cloak, revealing green scales, sharp cheekbones, and beautiful eyes. Jack wondered if she was particularly beautiful for her race, or if the pictures in his history books simply hadn't done the Silurians justice.

The maid she'd spoken of met them in the hallway. She spared a single glance for Jack and then turned her attention to Vastra. "Supper is ready, ma'am," she said, dropping into a curtsey. "But I suppose you'll be wanting to change."

"Yes," Vastra said, "thank you. Jenny, this is Captain Harkness. He'll be dining with us. Please see if we have anything suitable for him to change into, as well. Please don't take offense, Captain," she added to him, "but you reek even worse than most of your kind."

"Ma'am!" Jenny said with a sharp glance.

"Except for you, my dear," Vastra said, almost tenderly. To Jack's astonishment, she reached out and stroked Jenny's cheek with one long-fingered green hand.

Jenny looked moderately mollified. "I'll see what I can find for Captain Harkness," she said, and led him away.

In the end, she managed to find trousers, a shirt, and a smoking jacket, all slightly too large, and a pair of boots that fit better than Jack's own. He didn't ask too many questions about their provenance; his own clothes _did_ reek, and he wasn't about to sit through dinner in them if he had other options. Once he'd changed, he slipped out of the spare bedroom and crept down the hallway toward the dining room.

From the sound of it, Vastra had already changed and joined Jenny in the dining room. Jack slowed down to eavesdrop. "Where on Earth did you find him?" Jenny was asking.

"He followed me home, if you must know," Vastra said, sounding amused. "I thought you would like him. He's handsome, isn't he? For a mammal, I mean."

"He's a _man_ ," Jenny said, to Jack's distinct disappointment. "But I suppose . . . well, yes, he is very handsome. Why was he following you?"

"He says he works for Torchwood. They were bound to notice me sooner or later. I haven't exactly been inconspicuous. Come in, Captain!" she called suddenly. "I can smell you lurking out there."

Jack put on his best chagrined smile. "My apologies," he said, entering the dining room.

"Don't apologize for anything you plan to do again," Vastra told him. "Please, be seated."

"Thank you," Jack said. Jenny poured him a glass of dark red wine and then placed a bowl of stew in front of him. Jack poked a bit at the chunks of meat, but they did indeed seem to be of the normal lamb variety. He relaxed a bit when Jenny took a seat across from him with her own bowl of stew. "I appreciate the invitation, but I'm afraid you don't realize the situation you're in. You're right - you haven't been inconspicuous. Torchwood is going to be curious about you as long as you go around leaving half-eaten bodies for Scotland Yard to find."

"I see," Vastra said. "And what do you plan to tell them about me?"

"As little as possible," Jack said. He shuddered to think what Torchwood would do to Vastra if they got their hands on her - and what she would do in return. She was clearly someone with resources of her own, and that was a war Jack had no interest in starting. Plus, from what Jack had read, crime had dropped considerably in London in recent months. She'd picked off several of the more significant crime lords, and the others were wary of ending up on her menu.

Vastra smiled, alarmingly. "An excellent answer. Still, I would prefer to avoid Torchwood's . . . curiosity. It could become uncomfortable."

"For you," Jack said, "and for others." He glanced toward Jenny.

"I'll have you know I can take care of myself," Jenny said, straightening her spine.

Oh, Jack _liked_ her. He liked them both, actually, and it was a shame that neither of them seemed to want what he had to offer. "So can I," Jack said, "but that didn't mean much once they had me in their sights."

"What do you suggest, then?" Vastra asked.

Jack sipped his wine before answering. "Go abroad. Torchwood's reach is limited to the British Empire. Outside of it, they have no jurisdiction. In a year or two, Torchwood's attention will be elsewhere." He'd ensure it.

Jenny and Vastra exchanged a long, unreadable look. Jack ate his stew and considered all the intriguing possibilities the two of them offered - or would have offered, had things been different. "I've always wanted to see Paris, ma'am," Jenny said at last.

"And so you shall," Vastra said, with an indulgent smile. "And perhaps Nice, as well. Florence, Venice, Rome. We shall take a long holiday. Thank you, Captain Harkness. Your advice is very much appreciated."

"My pleasure," Jack said, wishing that it actually were.

After dinner, Jenny disappeared into the kitchen, while Vastra escorted Jack to the door. His sewer-contaminated clothes had been folded and placed into a bag, which was waiting for him in the foyer. "Robert will take you where you need to go," she said. "Thank you, again. I would be very upset indeed if anything happened to Jenny because of my carelessness."

Jack shook his head. "It was nothing. Enjoy Paris."

Vastra winked. "I'm sure we will. And should you find yourself on the other side of the Channel, Captain, do call on us."

The door closed. Jack gave her driver the address of his hotel and climbed into the carriage. It was always a risk, lying to Torchwood, but Jack was a consummate liar when he needed to be. Vastra and Jenny were a slice of the 51st century on this damp little 19th century island. He'd do what he had to in order to protect them.

 _Fin._


End file.
